Hope Eternal
by pathomythic
Summary: A quest encounters Guy and Allan unexpectedly. It sics some meta fantasy upon them. Familiar fantasy. With zombies. You'll see. Written for the 2010 GuyxMarian Secret Santa in LJ.


**Fic: Hope Eternal**

**Word count: **2264

**Rating: **PG/PG-13

**Genre: **crack! parody

**Characters: **Guy, Allan, Robin... and more.

**Summary: **A quest encounters Guy and Allan unexpectedly. It sics some meta fantasy upon them.

It was a sweet day at the outlaw camp. Birds were singing, the sun was shining, the insects copulating. All in all you could pretty much say it was almost definitely kind of peaceful.

"HOOD! Are you shagging my sister?"

Robin stopped chewing the funny looking mushrooms he had found sprouting around the tree where Much kept his favourite goat and raised both his eyebrows at once.

"Of course I am, mate. You know that. I could smell you watching us getting it on that one day. What a day! The leaves were rustling, birds were singing, we were copulating."

"No, no, no, no! I mean now! Are you shagging her now?"

Guy looked frightfully pissed. His chest was heaving and his mouth was all snarly. Allan seemed very affected by the scene. What a sensitive bloke. Robin was feeling kind of almost definitely affected as well. Weirdly enough Tuck and Kate grossly absorbed were eating sunflower seeds out of a big bowl. Robin wondered what was so interesting about two men's torsos.

"Well yeah, mate. I mean don't you know how hot hate sex can be? That girl is fire! She does this thing with her t—"

"I DON'T WANT TO KNOW! BUT THAT'S NOT THE POINT! WE WANT TO KILL HER REMEMBER?"

Robin raised both his eyebrows again.

"Did I say I wanted to kill her? Because that would be a waste of talent. Sheer talent." Not to mention the fact that it would be pre-meditated murder. But Much was looking at him so sadly whenever he spoke funny words.

Guy gave him his trademark puppy eyes. "You mean, you really won't help me kill her, tear her from limb to limb, slap her and boast over how utterly wrong she is?" Robin felt the other man's pain right to his core.

"Sorry, mate. Knight's honour and somesuch."

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO—" Guy had often surprised Robin with his stamina. "—OOOOOOOOOO! I'll make you pay for this, Hood!"

"But we're practically family!"

"You three have such a profound bond," Much sniffed. Two brothers, the one shagging the other's sister, the other killing the one's wife. It's so moving."

"Much, you're in the way!" Kate yelled around a mouthful of seeds.

"I'm leaving now. And I shall return." Guy said and that was the last the outlaws saw of him. Until the next time.

Allan jumped up. "Excuse me. I'm going to go see a man about a p—pee." He rushed off in a general direction straight after Guy.

And that is the last we'll be seeing Robin and the near-extinct gang of his until we need another plot device.

Guy had long legs. Like legs going on for miles. It was very distracting for Allan who in the face of such visions had to stop every two minutes to adjust his zip enhanced laced trewes' codpiece.

"Hold on a bit, Giz! Wait for me!"

It took a minute of begging but Guy finally stopped strutting like a demented sex demon, and Allan caught up, heaving and glisteny with sweat.

Guy was sniffing rather wetly. "Sorry. Something got into my eye. It's a little red."

"There, there." Allan offered. "I believe you. You have fly wings stuck on your lips which are looking delicious if I may add."

Oh bollocks. It sprouted from his mouth before he even knew what he was going to say. Allan was horrified.

"Poor Allan. You would stoop so low as to consume flies. What have these outlaws done to you? We must depart this damned place in haste lest I catch it too." He softly pushed Allan forward and Allan decided to shut his brain up.

There was a lot of walking. Guy found it to be truly epic quest-like. But lo! Did he speak too rashly? For snow began to fall, and the ancient oaks slowly gave way to evergreens, and was that a garderobe of fur cloaks? You could find public shitholes practically everywhere nowadays.

Not long after, when already everything was coated in a thick layer of pure snow—or "the solid phase of the ol' eych-two-oh" as simple Tuck liked to call it—Guy and Allan witnessed a strange thing.

"It must be an oddly long whipping post," decided Guy.

"Nah, look how it bulges at the top. It's got to be a p—pee."

"A pea pod is green, my dim-witted vassal."

"Right on, Giz," the vassal replied and they moved on. Allan's brain might not need so much discipline after all.

"Is it me or is this snow not very cold? I mean you can practically run around this place with only a scarf and the fur on your legs. Maybe an umbrella too. You know, that thing Robin used that time as a wind glide? Oh wait. Are you even listening to me, Giz?" Guy had stopped short and Allan pouting eventually decided to look at the dumbfounding sight that had frozen the tall handsome dark formidable man.

And there she was. A dumbfounding sight in indigo. A miracle of literary proportions. Marian of Knighton.

"Have I expired?" Guy breathed. "Marian!"

"Guy? You came?"

Guy rushed to her, felt her up; she was warm and breathing and real and still firm.

"But I killed you!" he said enthusiastically.

"Yes you did," Marian said gravelly.

"I'm so sorry!" Guy whined.

"Are you?"

"You have no idea. The trials I have been through since, the drunken bouts of grief! I lost my job, I killed the sheriff, I even slept next to a dung heap." Tears fell from his icy, stormy, cloudy, grey eyes. "I discovered that Robin and I share a brother. And I have a sister whom Robin is shagging and I want to kill. I am living an utter tragedy! What is your news?"

"What? Robin is shagging his sister?" Marian exclaimed. A common enough mistake.

"My sister."

"His sister."

"Not his sister."

"But your brother."

"And Robin's brother."

"But not his sister?"

"Right. And my sister is shagging my brother's brother so now both must die."

"Your brother too?"

"No."

"Can we get back to the how you're alive Maz? This conversation isn't holding much plot point for me."

"Allan! Let me hug and kiss you, you who have not killed me!"

Usually Allan liked close contact involving saliva et cetera but not this time; and neither did Guy.

"When _he_ stabbed me, it really hurt."

"I was hurting too!"

"Not- the same."

"You can cut the very heart from my chest and I shan't begrudge it of you." Melodramatic as usual, but Marian paused.

"Accepted. But back to me now, Robin and I got married, there were tears and I fell into the abyss. It was very boring. I hurt my bum falling on the ground. I think I fractured my pelvis. But I was alive!"

"How long did the abyss last?" Alan asked.

"A minute or so. But I could breathe and I still had all my hair so I naturally thought it was all a dream. The sun was shining, the birds were singing and two centaurs were copulating by the creek there.

"But the idyllic scene didn't last long. Richard came paws thundering, tail swishing, and explained it all: how he brought me back to life and I gave him back his ring. I think he's kind of really cheap. He's been doing that a lot and this is the place we the risen dead are staying."

"We?" Allan—smart that he is—asked. True enough, behind Marian little further in the back by the very popular creek, stood people watching the conversation. And further than that stood more people. And beyond that a cast of thousands.

"Dear God! Are all of them the risen dead?"

"Yeah," Marian nodded cheerfully. "Richard likes to give away gold a lot."

"Marian," Allan began, worry forming in his voice. "How do we get out of this place?"

"I don't know. And if you find it make sure to tell us. I know this bloke who's been dying to start a travel agency and give guided tours to England. It's a pretty good idea."

"And we should be heading back to Sherwood." Allan elbowed Guy.

"He's right! Marian, pack your skirts and hats. You are returning home!" Guy declared.

Marian grinned the familiar happy face Guy had last seen right before he put a sword through her gut. "Wait till I tell them that."

This is how England came to have thousands of undead looking for a way in. Allan was a little bit concerned but Guy was walking about with a hard-on and it was very distracting.

They walked. With about eighteen hundred thirty seven of an entourage (the amount of Englishmen to whom Richard had given gold) but strangely enough the entrance was lost.

"When we go back you'll marry me and we will live in a castle your friends will have built. Won't you like that?" Guy asked.

"I would like a cup of tea," Marian replied. Allan was getting tired.

"Listen folks, we've circling the area for ages and still no sign of thinning snow and my nipples are starting to freeze. I think there's a good chance we can't get out of this place."

Disappointed silence fell. "This quest sucks," Marian said pouting cherry red lips.

"Marian! You have forgiven me for murdering you haven't you?" cried Guy in despair.

"This is so not the time for this." Marian said.

"No no, let him speak," said a talking badger. "This quest is so dull."

"Indeed. No character development, no great story arches. It's all starting to feel a little stagnant." Allan couldn't agree more with the talking raven. He wondered if it were undead too.

"Is it too obvious to point out that if somebody's issues get resolved we might find the entrance to escape this shithole?" said the garden snake.

Allan liked the idea. "I'm seeing talking animals. I believe in magic again and it's all because of this land. I now believe in myself."

Silence fell. Until, "Hey, is that a penis on the horizon?"

Guy and Allan both looked at each other. They were going home.

Past the furs cloaks and past the giant squid filled lake and past the dwarven mines, Sherwood Forest began to unfold beneath their feet. Guy was feeling a little disappointed that Allan saved the day, miffed even, murderous most likely but Marian had stopped dodging him and even let him sniff her hair once or twice. Things were looking up. Birds might begin to sing again, and leaves rustle.

"You shall not pass!"

The voice echoed in the fox holes, and reverberated in the bread crumb trail.

"Robin!" cried Marian. Guy did not care for her enthusiasm. But there he was, he and his two-man-and-a-bint gang blocking the way.

"Step back you fiend from hell! You shall not cross onto the holy soils of England!" cried Robin. Guy's heart soared. For the first time in his longish life Guy caught a glimpse of something that had been rolling along side him since the day of his birth five years ago. That was a convenient twist, he thought but soon tossed its profundity aside.

"But Robin! I've travelled halfway and through the world to come to you!"

"Go back whence you came! You shall not tempt me with your disguises, Succubus. I can totally see the scars behind your ears and that nose is definitely fake. You shall not pass!"

"Hood. What is going on?" Guy asked, taking the reins of the conversation in his strong reliable manly arms.

"You have brought monsters with you from foreign lands Gisborne."

"But I never left."

"They wish to walk among us. And that is wrong. I am the keeper of Sherwood and the last English frontiers and I am allowed to make a complete 180 degrees turn in order to serve the cause."

"Can I just point out that we are eighteen hundred strong and that we can easily take four people down like woa?" Allan jumped in. He was ignored.

"She is your wife!" Guy yelled. "Have you gone mad?"

Robin scrunched his nose. He took a step closer and in a confidential tone said, "Thing is, mate, your sister is kind of jealous. And Marian was dead. A bloke's got to move on eventually you know?"

Guy shook his head. Moving on. Pffft.

"Anyways, you and Allan can come in, Tuck says. The undead Richardborn are abominations and fakes and I trust Tuck to preach me some truths."

"It needs pondering."

"Go ahead and ponder."

Guy rejoined his fellow questers. "Allan, my loyal vassal and quasi-friend and all man-servant, you are free to return to England. The choice is made." He took a deep tragic breath. "The rest of us are not welcome here."

"Oh Guy!"

"Yes Marian! I choose you and the rest of the living dead!"

"I'm still not going to shag you," she insisted.

"Yet." Guy had all the time in the world.

"You owe me your penance, bitch."

Shivers went up Guy's spine.

"But we can take them!" Allan feebly protested as the cast of one point eight thousand turned heel and sauntered back to pastures weirder.

"Tell you what, mate," the talking raven reappeared just in time. "What's your opinion of ships? There's this raven haired black eyed chiselled featured bloke I know and he's fit..."

"Ok, sure." Allan liked novelties and fit long legged black haired—He sighed. "So why does it snow so much here?"

"It's Christmas, dude."

THE END

_**End notes:** So yeah, Narnia. Mostly. I do believe the references were not enough for this to count as a crossover._


End file.
